


Dying Old

by russian_blue



Category: Classical Greece and Rome History & Literature RPF
Genre: Other, Poison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russian_blue/pseuds/russian_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strychnine is bitter, but the most pleasant to work with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying Old

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/gifts).



Strychnine is bitter, but the most pleasant to work with. Small enough doses show no effect; indeed, your physician agrees your digestion is better after you begin your work with the poison. Only once do you miscalculate, and the tremors that shake your body leave your heart racing long after the strychnine’s effects have faded. It reminds you how easy it would be for this to go wrong—for you to cut your own life short, rather than armoring it against those who would do the same.

Arsenic is mild, leaving only an aftertaste of sweetness, and sometimes a metallic sensation as well. But it yellows your skin and makes your hair fall out, gives you burning pains in your hands and your feet. The man advising you swears this is expected, and will not kill you. You almost have him executed anyway. How simple would it be for your enemies to buy this man’s loyalty? Then all the world would laugh at Mithridates, who took his own life through foolishness and hubris. But the man knows what will happen to him if you perish; therefore you trust him, and continue on, until arsenic no longer troubles you.

Cyanide makes you gasp as if the gods had taken the air away. If you did not doubt the man before, you do so now, when the world spins and your heart pounds and your stomach twists as if it would tear itself apart. But you made up your mind to trust him, and if you were wrong, it is too late now to undo your error. The air returns; the world becomes stable once more; afterward you smile when you catch the scent of almonds.

Nightshade dries your mouth and blurs your vision, showing you things that are not there. Hemlock weakens your muscles, until you feel helpless as a babe. Oleander you vomit up, again and again, but each time the dose you expel is larger; it is progress, even if your body never becomes indifferent to it.

And over time, you begin to laugh. All the toxins of the world, and none of them can kill you. This work becomes rumour, gossip, challenge; of course men decide to test it. You recognize the strange odor of mandrake, the burning touch of daphne, the pleasant taste of death cap mushrooms—but none of them trouble you. Indeed, you have achieved your aim: you cannot die by poison.

In exchange, you have spent your years in misery. Trembling, aching, spewing your guts out more times than you can count. Your hair is thin and brittle, your skin mottled with discolorations and rash. Your joints ache as you move, though you have not yet reached your dotage. Nightmares plague you when you sleep and visions haunt you by day, ghosts of horrors and things too strange for words. You laugh, but you cannot remember a time when you faced a meal with joy.

Well done, O king. You have made yourself a legend and a twisted thing. Many will die, thinking to follow your example; those who do not may regret it.

And when you die—not of poison, not directly, but perhaps of their effects over the long and wretched years—you will welcome it with relief.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn’t supposed to be a depressing story; it was just supposed to be a glimpse of how Mithridates built up his tolerance. But once I started actually researching the poisons and their effects, the ending became inevitable. Er, sorry about that. I hope it's not too much of a downer.
> 
> I owe a large debt to the book _Deadly Doses: A Writer’s Guide to Poisons_ , by Serita Deborah Stevens and Anne Klarner, from which I drew much of my information. (Even though they debunk the Mithridates story on page 5.)


End file.
